


Promenading

by littlemiss_m



Series: HOME, a series [14]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Depression, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Suicide Attempt, Prom, References a past school shooting, references a lot of bad things but is in general a happy/hopeful fic, with kissing and dancing and having fun like only teenagers can
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemiss_m/pseuds/littlemiss_m
Summary: Prompto and Noctis go to prom and make peace with their past.





	Promenading

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be the chronological end to HOME, a series, and references several past events. It's been a while since I started posting the series and for the Full Emotional Impact (you know you want it :D) I'd recommend reading or at least skimming through Shooting, the first fic in this series. The entire series has 56k words to it so I'm not gonna tell anyone to read all of it, and obviously it isn't mandatory to go back at all, but I feel that some of the impact may be lost otherwise.
> 
> Though this is technically the end of the series, I do have one more fic left to post and I'll get to it tomorrow as usual :)

Prom is not easy.

Not for Prompto, not for Noctis, but also for a handful of their yearmates who were there that day three years earlier. Prompto still remembers vividly the sound of gunshots and the smell of blood, and in the end, it's only the involvement of the Crown that gives him the courage to attend. It's the thought of Noct's hand in his, the excited hush of the approaching graduation day. It's the girls of their class cooing over pictures of pretty dresses, the boys slinking up to their crushes to ask them out. It's the shyest girl in their class quietly stammering, ”no, sorry, I can't go with you, I already got a partner,” saying ”it's my girlfriend, I'm going with my girlfriend, gosh, Jimmy, you used to _bully_ me you dickhead–”

It's not easy, but they make do.

* * *

Noctis gets proposed exactly once. A girl in their class comes up to them during lunch break, asks Noctis if he's by _any_ chance still free, and Noctis grins and slings an arm around Prompto's shoulders. ”Sorry, I'm gonna take my best bro here,” he says, ”my pal, my buddy, my bestest friend _ever_.”

”Bros five-ever, dude,” Prompto replies. They fist-bump to the sound of exaggerated groans and smack their mouths together in a wet, loud kiss.

”Hey, had to try,” the girl says, shrugging. ”At least I can say I got rejected by the Crown Prince.”

* * *

The day of the prom finds Prompto and Noctis sitting in the back of the Regalia while Ignis drives them towards Insomnia High. They're both dressed in suits – black for Noctis, midnight blue for Prompto – and wear matching boutonnieres on their breasts. From the beginning, it was clear that the ride would be arranged on Noctis' behalf, so Prompto insisted on at least being allowed to do this. It took him several days of scourging through flea markets and second-hand stores, but eventually he found what he was looking for: two old brooches, made of cheap faux-ceramics, portraying a chocobo and a blue fish. Fixing them up was the easy part, through figuring out the flowers was a bit trickier; in the end, he collected a handful of baby's breath from the Amicitia manor gardens and kept them in a glass of water as long as he could. Now, the tiny white blooms surround the brooches like a halo of lace, carrying a faint scent of the approaching summer.

Cheap craft tape _probably_ isn't the most standard way of doing things, but the little blooms will keep for the few hours they're needed for and seeing Noctis blush fire engine-red was totally worth the trouble. Here, in his father's car, Noctis still wears the blush and keeps on ducking his head like this was their first date, their first anything, but Prompto knows he looks the same so he doesn't say anything.

It's not really anything new or grand, they've both been to too many formal balls and galas already, but it's prom and somehow those four letters reduce them both to the giggling teenagers they really are. It's prom. They're young and happy and about to graduate. Things are good.

* * *

Once at the school, Ignis makes a show of opening the door for Prompto and Noctis. A couple girls sigh and swoon nearby but Prompto pays them no mind. He smiles at Ignis, embarrassed and happy at the same time, and tugs Noctis towards the doors flanked by a pair of Crownsguards. The girls coo at _them_ , too, giggling and crowding the steps for a photo-op with all their friends and dates.

Prompto feels like the entire world is drunk on the same sugary, syrupy, pink-tinted fountain of shimmery champagne, and he loves it.

Closer to the doors, his footsteps begin to falter. Noctis lets go of his hand in favor of wrapping an arm around his waist, and Prompto mirrors the motion even as his heartbeat skyrockets and the sweat in his palms turns his skin clammy. ”We don't have to go if you don't want to,” Noctis murmurs to his ear, leaning close.

Prompto shakes his head. ”No, it's okay,” he says. It is, in a way; he knows both Cor and Clarus were directly involved in working out tonight's security, and he trusts them. He knows the chances of someone arranging a kidnapping attempt during prom night is close to nil. There are two dozen Crownsguards stationed around the school and Prompto trusts them.

It's just a lot. Prompto doubts he'll ever be truly over what happened back then; the day still haunts his nightmares in a hail of bullets, the splatter of blood on black and white, the ghosts of Lucie and Noctis both following him down the hallways. He's come a long way since, though, has survived so much more than a gun pointed at him, and he's past letting memories stop him from enjoying life.

At the steps, Prompto swirls around to peck Noctis' lips. This is the picture that will grace the front pages of all Insomnian newspapers come morning and new day: the Crown Prince of Lucis and his boyfriend, kissing on their way to prom. This time, there's no-one to bruise Prompto's face or break his bones, only good-natures chastising and gently rolling eyes, and Prompto makes a point of saving each and every article.

* * *

The new gym, where the actual party is held, is cloaked in darkness. The prom committee made a conscious decision of choosing a theme as far away from the gentle fairytale softness of the prom-that-never-was, and ended up deciding on the universe. The ceiling and the walls are all draped with black and dark blue fabrics to mimic the dark nothingness of space, and countless fairy lights in greens and purples cast an eerie glow on the people underneath.

”This school is so fucking _rich_ ,” are the first words from Prompto's mouth when he sees the decorations. Noctis responds with a startled laugh and pulls him away from the doorway.

Prom is... prom. Most of the kids in their year are there in the gym, dressed to the nines, trying to have fun and enjoy the night. A series of nine disco balls lights up the space in dancing beams of light that make Prompto's head hurt but also turn the athmosphere to something truly magical. He dances with Noctis, fools around on the dance floor like a total nerd while Noctis films him, and then they switch places while some of their classmates cheer them on.

As much as they like to hang out on their own, they're not _total_ rejects. Four years of going to school together does things to any group of kids, and they're no different, so most of the night is spent hanging out with the handful of friends they do have and just having fun.

One of the highlights of the night is the lone Crownsguard stationed behind the long table of drinks and snacks, and it's not just Prompto who thinks so. The man stands with his arms crossed, legs shoulder-widht apart, and glowers at everyone who dare approach him. The kids – because that's what they still are, never mind that a fraction of them have already reached the magical age of 18 – naturally make a game out of it, and start taking photographs next to him. The man never breaks his expression of quiet, dignified rage, and Prompto whistles in awe.

”I think his poker face is almost as good as Cor's,” he says.

”I should probably give him a commendation or something,” Noctis chortles, then gasps. ”Shit, you know, I think Clarus is planning on putting him on the team that stands guard during secret meetings, there's no way they'd put him here just for the fun of it!”

Prompto laughs so hard his eyes water. ”What, the Crown is using innocent children to train their guards? Pretty sure that's, like, tyranny.”

Whatever Noctis' reply, it's lost under the sounds of their entire year bursting out in cheers and laughter as one of the guys literally climbs the Crownsguard and drapes himself over the man so that he looks like the typical damsel being rescued by her humble prince.

* * *

No-one is surprised when Noctis gets crowned Prom King. He accepts the crown with a tired, annoyed grace that tells the entire gym exactly what he thinks about the whole ordeal, but when the Prom Queen is announced, he smirks and throws in every last ounce of princely charm he has and twirls her into the open dance floor like a fairytale princess. She has been seeing her boyfriend longer than Prompto and Noctis have been together, but looks so enamored that Prompto still shares a despairing look with said boyfriend when their gazes meet across the floor.

The song changes and Noctis immediately heads for Prompto, who accepts the invitation with a bright grin. They danced earlier, too, but this it's different somehow; slower, closer, more intimate. Prompto has his arms around Noctis' neck, his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, and for a moment the rest of the world disappears from around them.

It's taken them a lot to get here. Ever since they first met, they have both been changing and reforming around the other, their entire beings slotting together in unison. As easy as it was to fall in love and be loved in return, they still have their own issues; no relationship is without cracks. Prompto has his mental health, his fears and his insecurity, while Noctis struggles under the responsibilities weighting down his shoulders. It was easy to grow together, from children to teenagers to the brink of adulthood, but they wanted to do it well so they worked on it.

The song reaches its end and Prompto untangles his arms, leans back just a fraction so he can properly appreciate the gentle smile on Noctis' face, the eyes sparkling under the colorful lights spinning around them. The kiss is long, not exactly appropriate for public spaces such as this, but by now the majority of students are well on their way to the realm of drunkness and there's no-one around to care.

”Come on,” Prompto says. He takes Noctis' hand and pulls him out of the gym, into the hallways where the lights are dim yet bright enough to squeeze tears out of their eyes. It will soon be time to head home, but there's something else he wants to do first.

They pass a Crownsguard who asks them if everything is okay but doesn't try to stop them from disappearing into the sprawling depths of the school. Prompto pulls Noctis all the way to the old extension, towards places he hasn't visited since he last walked Cor through them. Noctis understands and squeezes his fingers.

The locker has been fixed, but there's still a mark where Noctis' head slammed against it. This is where they stop first, the short stretch of a hallway, to simply watch the dented metal before them. The wing sees so little use these days that the locker hasn't been replaced; there's no point, when it would go unused all the same.

No words are spoken as they continue their way. Prompto leads Noctis past the lockers and the toilet, past the first dead gunman and then the second, past the spot where he can still see Lucie's blood soaking into the plastic tiles. The gym is empty and dark, but the lights still work.

”I think about it sometimes,” Prompto murmurs as they cross the floor towards the bleachers and the storage containers. ”What would have happened if the gym hadn't been empty when I got here. I – I was trying to be ready, I remember thinking that if I saw another man with a gun, then I'd just shoot, but...”

Noctis sighs and pulls Prompto into a side hug. ”No use thinking like that,” he says. ”Yeah, anything _could_ have happened, but you knew the safest space to hide in this building and got us both there. We got the best possible outcome and we're gonna stick to that, okay?”

A soft kiss on his cheek brings a small smile to Prompto's lips. ”Yeah,” he sighs, ”I know. It's just – a lot.”

”Everything's a lot,” Noctis quips, smirking a little. He lets go of Prompto and steps closer to the storage boxes. ”Which one is it? This one?”

Not really trusting his voice, Prompto nods. Noctis bends down to pull the box out of the hole, and for a second – a frighteningly long second, when time halts and Prompto's heart makes an attempt at escape through his mouth – Prompto freezes, so sure that there's one last gunman still hiding here, ready to spring out the second the box is out. He's wrong, of course, but by the time he sees the half-deflated basketballs still filling the storage box, the fear has settled all the way down to this bones.

Noctis drags the box all the way out and Prompto wonders idly if the balls are still the ones from three years ago, unused and left to rot like the rest of the gym.

”Hey,” Noctis says, wiggling his fingers in an invitation Prompto doesn't refuse. They sit down in front of the crawlspace and just stay there, holding onto each other, until Prompto has the courage to turn on the flaslight app on his phone to light up the darkness. There's nothing there, only thick layers of dust and the ghosts of two hiding boys. There was blood here but it's all been cleaned away. Prompto swallows and doesn't look away.

Noctis is the first to move, inching down to lay on the floor before pulling his body into the crawlspace. Prompto waits until he's all the way at the back before handing over the flashlight and following in slow, jerky movements. He's not afraid of small spaces but sometimes, when he's anxious or depressed, the feeling of being surrounded on all sides is enough to trigger a flashback. Noctis is looking at him, though, smiling and eyes soft where he's hiding behind the flashlight aimed in Prompto's direction, and it's all the courage he needs.

”I've been thinking,” Prompto murmurs when he's settled in the crawlspace, side-by-side with Noctis who finds his hand and holds onto it.

”Yeah?”

”Yeah. About – about something Cor said back then.” Noctis makes an inquiring sound but Prompto needs a moment to find the correct words. ”He said if I wanted to, he'd teach me to shoot.”

Noctis is silent for a while, and when he finally speaks, he sounds cautious. Prompto knows why and understands. ”You want to, then?”

”Not really... I mean, I know it'd be a really bad idea to give me a gun of my own, yeah?” he laughs a little, self-deprecating, but Noctis doesn't join in. He never does, when Prompto's joking about dying, but he doesn't tell him off for it either unless he thinks it's going too far. ”But, like... I'd like to go to range with him, to just – hold a gun or see one or something like that. I know it sounds kinda dumb like that–”

”It doesn't,” Noctis sighs, cutting in. ”I get it, Prom, I promise. You don't want to be scared anymore, yeah?”

”I think I'll always be scared, to be honest,” Prompto admits slowly. ”Just – if I could control it a bit better, then that'd be good.”

Noctis hums but doesn't say anything, and for a while they just lay there in the dark crawlspace where the ceiling is less than two inches from their noses and where specks of dust flutter in the beam of the flashlight. ”Dad's gonna knight you when you're eighteen, you know,” Noctis says eventually. ”I know you don't really want to, but – it'd be good, in the future, I mean–”

A startled laugh spills from Prompto's lips. ”Shit, I was hoping everyone had forgotten about that,” he chuckles, then sighs. ”Please tell me it's not going to be in some huge-ass party before a huge-ass crowd, dude.”

”Nah, buddy,” Noctis grins. ”Turns out, other than the king, only three witnesses are required, and unless I've gotten something really badly messed up, then Clarus, Cor, and me are enough to fill those spots.”

”Thank the Gods,” Prompto splutters, embarrassed. ”Great, I just gotta deal with Clarus being a smug asshole about the thing, no big deal. Seriously, he's worse than Gladio and Iris combined!”

”I think it's required in law that all dads be dicks to their sons.”

”Well maybe you should change that law!”

They dissolve in laughter once more, only this time there's nothing left to say. Once they're out of the crawlspace, the sight of thick clumps of dust clinging to their dark clothes makes them laugh some more, almost to the point of tears falling down their faces. They push the storage box back in its place and wrap around each other for a hug that tells more than a hundred words ever could. When they separate, Prompto has the wet sheen of tears shimmering in his eyes, but he's smiling all the same.

”You good?” Noctis asks, swiping a stray hair from Prompto's cheek.

”Yeah, just getting tired.”

He doesn't resist when Noctis takes hold of his hand and begins leading him out of the gym. They turn off the lights and leave, doubling down on the same path they took mere moments earlier; Prompto knows it hasn't been that long, yet it feels to him like an eternity just passed.

Outside, night has fallen. The air is cool, refreshing on Prompto's heated face, and he lets himself sag against Noctis' body after they spot the Regalia waiting for them. The day has been beyond good, but it's also been long and tiring, and the content happiness coursing in Prompto's veins isn't enough to drive away the fatigue quickly settling in. When morning comes, there's a chance he'll wake up exhausted to the bone, though it's just as likely that tomorrow will be just as bright as today was.

In the car, Prompto pulls Noctis down to rest on his lap. ”Tell me something good,” he murmurs, playing idly with the toussled, dust-covered strands of midnight black hair.

”I love you,” Noctis whispers back. Prompto blinks away the burn in his eyes, unleashes two, three tears that splash down on Noctis' face. Neither of them stops smiling.


End file.
